Without You
by Bondi
Summary: Mark opens up to Angel when all hope is lost for the Bohemian family.


Angel slid open the loft door. She had always been expected to show up if Collins was working, and it was Sunday, so he wouldn't be home much, if at all. She looked about the loft, and sitting on the couch was Roger, whose lap held guest to either Mimi or his guitar. The guitar won this time, since Mimi was out working. He looked up at her, holding the strings of his guitar down, and stood up, walking over to her.

"Oh thank God you're here Angel." He muttered, and grabbed her arm, walking her off to the hallway. She defended her small self and stood her ground.

"Roger!" Angel said, frustrated. He could be such a pain. "What's going on?" She asked, and looked at her, sighing.

"It's Mark…he locked himself up in his room. He's been like this ever since you got…well…the…" Roger said, and pointing to Angel's neck halfheartedly. Angel frowned, knowing what he was talking about. For the past week she had been wearing a turtleneck to cover up a lesion that had formed on her neck. She looked at Roger, and sighed, thinking it over.

"I-I'll go talk to him then." She said, and walked over to Mark's room, and knocked on the door. Nothing. She sighed. "Mark, it's me, Angel. Can I come in sweetie?" She asked, and once again, nothing. Angel rolled her eyes, and opened the door. Mark was looking out his window, like Roger often did. He turned a grim face, one that made Angel want to cry, to her and looked back almost immediately. She walked over to him, and sat with him on his bed. "What's wrong Mark? You haven't been yourself. Where's that damn camera?" She asked, offering a smile. He didn't take it. He just let out an annoyed sighed, almost ignoring her. She frowned again. "Don't be like this Mark." She told him, and he looked back at her.

"How do you want me to be Angel?" He asked, in the dreariest monotone voice she had ever heard. Collins sounded more enthusiastic when he talked in his sleep.

"I just want you to be Mark. The Mark Cohen that always laughs when Collins says something, the Mark Cohen who gets nervous around Maureen, but strong when around Joanne. The Mark Cohen who is always on Roger's ass about Mimi and AZT, the Mark Cohen who always blushes when Mimi talks about the club, or the Mark Cohen who hides behind his camera when he's around me. Where did he go honey?" She asked him, looking into those bright blue eyes. He looked back at hers, searching for one flaw. She really did care about him. She cared about everyone, but with Mark it was different. Mark always had worried her; he was so shy and alone. She wanted to make him feel better, because, well, he was her Mark. She had a lover, and a best friend; she also had her own Mark. As a reply, Mark shrugged.

"I just…I don't know Angel. Scared?" He asked, and looked back at her.

"Of what sweetie?" She asked him, and rubbed his back.

"Being alone." He whispered, so only she could hear. Angel frowned, and hugged him, keeping him as close as she could. He shuddered under her arms. "I can't take it anymore Angel! It took us forever for us to get Roger back on track, but he's just wasting away!" He shouted, but he was muffled in Angel's shirt. He was crying. Angel held her face to the top of his held, letting him shout. "And Collins, my God. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's been like a father to me since we've met, and Mimi. Mimi's going, I know she is. What is Roger going to do without her? And…and…" He stuttered, and lifted his head to look Angel in the eyes. Her eyes were becoming wet. This poor kid. The weight of this whole thing was causing more grief than to the actual victims. "And…and then there's you." He said, sniffing through his tears. "What are we going to do without you!" He shouted at her, angry. "Why are you doing this Angel!" He shouted, trying to shake her as if it were her fault. "Why do you have to leave? Who gave you that right to make all of us fall in love with you, and then leave us? Who gave you that right?" He shouted some more at her, and she held a hand to her mouth, and broke down. She felt guilty for it, she always did. She was going first; there was not doubt about that. Once she did break down, Mark felt the same guilt. He tried to stop her, but she waved a hand.

"No…Mark, this isn't about me right now." She said, wiping her eyes, and sniffing, looking back at him. "I want you to listen love, okay?" She asked him, and held his hands in hers. "Life goes on without me, Collins, Mimi or Roger. Life continues even when we're not here. My life is still going even though Collins is at work. Just because my heart stops beating doesn't mean yours will." She said, and Mark began to cry, thinking of Angel being dead. "Sh…sweetie, it's alright. I just need you to realize this. Life goes on without us Markie sweetie, but listen. The thing keeping us alive is your support. We'd die without you honey." She told him.

"It's too hard." Mark told her, and sniffed.

"I know sweetie, I know." She told him. "But it's even harder now. Losing faith in us isn't going to keep us alive sugar." She said, and hugged him again. "We love you Mark. I love you. You've got to know that." She whispered. She kissed his cheek, hoping, praying that Mark could be strong for a little while. At least strong enough for when she did die so Collins would be alright. She would die, about two weeks later. Her and Mark never spoke like this again. However, every time Mark would become sad, seeing Mimi pass, and Collins being admitted to the hospital, he straightened up. For Angel.


End file.
